R-E-S-P-E-C-T spells “Don’t trash my loved ones”

I have a strained relationship with my father. This is no secret. It’s been full of ups and downs. I’ve lately been trying to figure out why a certain event caused a brand new schism in our relationship.

Last night Bear told me that he’s glad we only have a week left until my mom comes to visit. Don’t get me wrong, Bear loves me and his momma with a special amount of fierceness, but he likes my mom and he never is unhappy about her visiting. I also realized that for all my brother and Bear don’t talk a whole lot, they both think it’s cool when they do have something to talk about and they do have the opportunity to hang out. I also have always known that Bear and Linda share a special kind of love for each other. Bear spends an inordinate amount of time fretting over her and 90% of the time that she spends thinking about him, she’s thinking about making him blush. None of these people initially liked/loved/appreciated each other. I think, especially in the case of my mom and Bear, that some thought I was cracked for loving the others as much as I do. My brother thinks my mom actually disliked Bear more than she ever let on. And then it hit me. I deeply appreciate it when people who love and respect me, respect my choices in life and appreciate that if I love someone, there’s something in them to love. It’s a special kinda gravy and chocolate that they all have found their ways to love each other, but at least in the beginning, they respected my love.

I have realized that one of the things I need in life is respect. Clearly one of the first things that makes me think you lack respect for me is to rip apart the people I love. I’m not the wisest person, but I’ve been through enough crap to see people for who they are.